


I Never Stopped Caring About You

by Tgaret990



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Based off the 7/24/17 episode of RAW, Because ALL THE SHIELD FEELS, Confessions, Feels, Kayfabe Compliant, Kissing, M/M, Roman has a cameo and will kill the boys if they don't talk about things, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS WWE?, i had to write something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tgaret990/pseuds/Tgaret990
Summary: “Of course I don’t trust you! You think one match together is gonna change that? You think one win taggin’ together is gonna change my opinion of you?” His fists were clenched tightly at his side, shaking erratically. “I told you last week, my brothers that I trusted, that I would go to the ends of the Earth for, were in the SHIELD! This is not the SHIELD,” he snarled, pointing between the two of them....“I don’t trust you, but… I never stopped caring about you.” Seth was sure he felt his heart stop.





	I Never Stopped Caring About You

I Never Stopped Caring About You

A/N: My parents almost bashed my head in because of how loud I was screaming during the Dean and Seth vs. the Miztourage match. I lost it for a split second, because I’m a raging fangirl in my mind, after the bell rang, and the hug and everything. And Seth, you should’ve known he wouldn’t hold his fist out with you _just_ yet. One day maybe, but not today… Anyway, because I have too many feels and Ambrollins is the wrestling OTP of my ff universe, have a one-shot (again)!

 

 

     Seth watched from across the ring as Dean hit Dirty Deeds on Miz. His heart was racing, beating so fast and loud that he was sure the entire arena could hear it. He watched Dean pin Miz, zeroed in on the referee’s hand hitting the mat. One! Two! Three! He heard the bell rang, and he couldn’t remember the last time he was this overjoyed. They’d come out here and did what they said they would, take on the Miztourage two on three and kick their sorry asses into the next era. He watched the excitement on Dean’s face, almost stumbled back after a one armed hug of sorts. Taps on the chest.

 

Then came the hug.

 

     Seth felt Dean’s arms close around him, even if it was just for a moment, and it was like everything was okay again, like they were still the SHIELD. Maybe that’s what drove him to hold out his right fist. Maybe it was the crowd’s raucous cheering that threatened to blow the roof off the arena and shatter his eardrums. Maybe… it was the feeling of home, comradery, _family_. He watched Dean meet his eyes, and something he couldn’t determine filled them for a split second. Whether it was confusion, anger, remorse, sadness, he wouldn’t know. He watched Dean fist bump to him, nodding, smiling at the fans as he did. It wasn’t until Dean started making his way up the ramp that he realized his fist was still held out. It wasn’t until Dean’s back was turned to him that he let his disappointment and hurt show on his face. The architect slowly lowered his fist, watched the Lunatic Fringe head backstage. He too began heading back, all the while waving to the fans with a false smile and a heart that hurt with every step. Just to delay the imminent meeting with Dean back in the locker room, he stopped and autographed a fan’s sign, posed for a selfie.

 

     He was happy. Really, he was, ecstatic even, that they’d won. The chemistry between them was electric and hadn’t faded despite their three years not teaming together. The longer the match went on, the more familiar the territory felt, the more familiar the match became. So what if it was a bit of a role reversal this time around? They were the Goddamn SHIELD way back when, and the numbers advantage wouldn’t deter them now that it was being used against them. He’d love to see Miz, Dallas, and Axel’s faces when they left the arena, knowing that they had the two of them four to two and **still** couldn’t get the job done. However… It really stung when Dean left him high and dry. He should’ve seen it coming. He should’ve expected as much. No, he **had** to let nostalgia hit. He **had** to **try**. It was a stab in the heart that he knew he deserved, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

 

     Seth pushed the entrance curtain aside, receiving slaps on the back and praise from everyone backstage who’d seen the victory.

 

     “Thank you,” he found himself saying over and over again, the words feeling hollow and meaningless rolling off his tongue.

 

     When he made it to the locker room, he was surprised to find Roman sitting next to Dean, grinning and congratulating him, rubbing his shoulders. Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening, grin growing further as he beckoned Seth over. His bag sat by his feet, packed and ready for him should he choose to leave.

 

     “Get over here,” Roman told him, patting the seat on the bench next to him.

 

     “Are you… sure?” Seth asked. His eyes landed warily on Dean.

 

     It’s not that he didn’t trust Dean, not after the stellar performance they’d just put on, not after a few pieces of the puzzle called ‘Brotherhood and Friendship’ were put back together. He just didn’t know… how Dean would react to him right now. Roman, frowning, was having none of it, and neither, frankly, was Dean.

 

     “Dude, I’m not gonna bite your arm off or somethin’. You can sit down.” The brunette had an already damp towel draped over his shoulders, catching the beads of sweat rolling down his neck as he spoke. Seth, cautiously, sat. “That’s better.”

 

     “I stuck around to catch y’all’s match,” Roman began. “You were great! I—” He cut himself off. _I wish I could’ve been out there with you,_ he wants to say, but refrains from doing so. “I’m proud of you,” he tells them instead. “Both of you.” His two brothers exchange a look. Dean breaks eye contact first, turning to Roman.

 

     “I will say the same to you when you bring home the Universal Title, brother.” The Samoan ruffles his hair, trapping them both in a one armed hug.

 

     “Don’t worry. I will.” He lets them go. “I’ll see you at the hotel?” he asks them both, seeing as how they’d all three ended up on the same floor, practically next to each other even. After receiving nods, he picked up his bag and stood. “Alright.” He gave them both separate, hard glances, practically screaming, _Talk things out or I will spear you into next WrestleMania_ , before walking out of the room, leaving the two alone with each other. There’s an uncomfortable silence before one of them speaks.

 

     “You were amazing out there,” Seth told him genuinely. Dean huffed out a small laugh.

 

     “Flattery, Rollins?” Seth frowned, brow creased in confusion. Dean laughed again. “You were too.” Seth thought he felt his heart melt a little at that.

 

     “I’m just telling the truth,” he said. Wrong response. Dean’s lips drew into a thin line, and he stood, going over to a locker and placing some of his belongings in his bag. “Dean?” No answer. He hung his head in defeat. “You still don’t trust me,” he stated. He heard the locker slam, head snapping up to observe Dean’s furious, heated glare.

 

     “Nah, what gave you **that** impression?” Dean asked, voice almost sarcastic, obviously pissed off at Seth’s words. “Of course I don’t trust you! You think one match together is gonna change that? You think one win taggin’ together is gonna change my opinion of you?” His fists were clenched tightly at his side, shaking erratically. “I told you last week, my brothers that I trusted, that I would go to the ends of the Earth for, were in the SHIELD! **This** is not the SHIELD,” he snarled, pointing between the two of them. “This is the fractured remains of a brotherhood that was never truly a brotherhood. This is a remnant of a dream, a fairytale, a _lie_ that I let myself believe when I let you into my heart, closer than anyone’s ever been. This…” His voice lowered with each sentence, now hardly above a whisper. “I don’t know what this is,” he finished, tone defeated and lost.

 

     Seth watched him, took in every word Dean threw at him, absorbed every verbal punch hurled his way. In the end, sapphire and dark brown met halfway across the room. Dean was breathing heavily, staring down Seth intently. Seth stared back with nothing but fierce loyalty and a determined fire burning brighter than ever. His voice was soft when he spoke again.

 

     “Okay. You don’t trust me as far as you can throw me. I get that. So let me ask you again: _What’s it gonna take_? What do I have to do to make things like the way they were—”

 

     “Things will **never** be the way they were,” Dean declared. “We can’t go back to 2012 like nothing went wrong. Ain’t gonna happen.”

 

     “I’ve apologized, offered you a chance at retribution, that you denied, I might add, tagged with you tonight in one of my best matches since coming back. All I want is for you to let me back in. And if you won’t, let me prove that you can. _Please, Dean_.”

 

     The Cincinnati native gazed at him with righteous fury before the emotion dissipated like a smoke cloud. It was replaced with a raw look of agony, despair. He turned away, trying to hide his face as he felt his walls slowly coming down. Seth stood and silently made his way over to him, laying a hand firmly yet gently on his shoulder. Dean turned his head just enough to catch Seth’s concerned eyes.

 

     He simply replied, “I can’t.” Seth momentarily tightened his grip before letting go, putting a few steps in between them. What he heard next almost had him tripping over his own feet. “I can’t because I already have,” Dean whispered. He couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t hear that right, did he?

 

     Nervously, disbelievingly, he stuttered, “W-What?” He felt as if he was hallucinating because _Did Dean just seriously say that_?!

 

     “I can’t,” he repeated, more sure of himself this time, “Because I already have.” He turned around to fully face his former brother in arms, taking a few slow steps forward. “The day you won your first World title, I knew. When you came back from your knee injury looking stronger than ever, I knew. When you and Ro were on top of the world for team RAW last year at Survivor Series, I knew… The minute you came out and practically saved me at the Mizzies, I knew. The second you said sorry, I knew. When you stood like Jesus, willing to accept whatever beating I could dish out with the weapon that brought my world crashing down around me, **I**. **Knew**. I knew that… that part of me was already starting to forgive you, that part of me was starting to remember the old Seth before the Authority.” He paused, smiled sadly. “Part of me is convinced that my brother is still in there somewhere,” he finished, poking Seth’s chest where his heart was. Seth’s gaze went to Dean’s hand, then to his face. “Even after everything, after all the pain you put me through, physical, mental, and spiritual, part of me was dying to look at you with the same love and respect that I used to. I don’t trust you, but… I never stopped caring about you.” Seth was sure he felt his heart stop. Gulping, he took the hand Dean was using to poke him and held it tight.

 

     At a loss for words, all he could get out was a quiet, “Dean…”

 

     “And I’m not saying I forgive you entirely either. We both know you’ve got a long way to go until then.”

 

     “Dean…” Seth simply repeated. The man in question raised an eyebrow.

 

     “Is that the only word you can say tonight?” he quipped. Seth let out a halfhearted chuckle, before falling silent again, gaze drawn to their intertwined fingers.

 

     Dean didn’t seem to fight the hand holding, looking more intrigued than anything at the display. He gently squeezed back. He heard Seth exhale in surprise before getting himself together. The silence between them was much more bearable than earlier, making the both of them a bit more bold at this point in the conversation. Seth gingerly swept stray locks of hair out of Dean’s eyes, catching his attention. They shared a sweet smile.

 

     “Say that again,” Seth murmured, knowing Dean would know what he was talking about. Dean leaned forward, their heads now together, foreheads touching in an almost intimate, familiar embrace of sorts.

 

     Eyes closed, he muttered, heartfelt, “I **_never_** stopped caring about you, Seth.” Seth. Not Rollins. Seth. Seth let out a shaky breath before he felt a pair of soft, warm lips on his.

 

     His initial reaction was shock, but that was brushed off quickly enough as Seth reciprocated. Slowly, their lips moved together, perfectly melded like they were made for each other. Seth felt a calloused hand cup his face softly at the same time he tangled his free hand gently in Dean’s wild curls. He whimpered quietly, hoping to God that this wasn’t some one time cruel form of punishment. Dean tilted his head slightly, deepening the, rather tame, but quickly intensifying, kiss. Seth poured his heart and soul into it, desperate to prove a point, to prove that during all that, all this time, he never stopped caring for him either. He swore he could feel the room heating up around him, and before he knew it, they were breaking apart for air. He chased Dean’s lips as he sucked in a breath, successfully catching his bottom lip in between his teeth and reeling him in for another calmer kiss. After a minute, they break apart again, this time so Dean can look Seth in the eye.

 

     “I still don’t trust you.” Seth chuckled.

 

     “I’d be worried if you suddenly did,” he answered lightly. He became serious once more. “I promise you, I’ll earn your trust back, no matter what it takes, no matter who I have to go through, no matter how many guys’ asses I have to kick by your side or in your corner, one day at a time, even if it kills me.”

 

     He tried again, looking Dean straight in the eye as he once again extended his right fist. Dean looked back, then stared at the fist in front of him. It looked as if he was about to deny Seth again. Just as he went to retract his hand, another one joined his. He grinned at Dean who grinned back, sighing in joyous relief.

 

     “I’ll hold you to that,” Dean told him, grabbing his bag off the floor. Seth leaned down and swept his belongings into his bag, zipping it shut and turning to Dean, standing back up straight. Dean stood by Seth’s side, taking **his** hand this time. “My room? For old time’s sake?” Seth, thinking he’d be the one to suggest such a thing, nodded as soon as he processed the request, feeling like he was on cloud nine.

 

     “Yeah. Of course.” _One day, I’ll be the Seth you knew. I promise you, Dean_ , he thought to himself. As if he could read his mind, Dean pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

     “I know.” They walked out of the locker room and arena hand in hand, both feeling as if things could finally settle between them.

 

 

Closing A/N: Just a lot of feels really. An Ambrollins backstage scenario written directly after last night’s RAW with our boys reacting to last night’s match and the last few weeks. I had to write **something** , **anything**.


End file.
